Volume 6, No. 2, June, 1918

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Page twelve The Internationalist Llano—A Soul Laboratory By Clinkenbe ar d Clews THERE are lots of things about living in the Colony besides eight hours a day, equal wage, free medical attendance, pay on sick leave, the social intercourse, and those other benevolent and admirable features so thoroughly advertised. For instance, there's human nature. Some people, grown cynical, insist that it isn't human. Maybe not. Maybe it is just human and not veneered. Anyway, we see human nature under the most powerful soul micrcoscope in the world. We see it spread out before us in a soul laboratory which gives cultures to show just what the human animal is and what he do under any combination of circumstances. —or it—will Doc says he can tell when a man steps off the train just what he will be saying and doing in two months. That is quite a strong statement, for the only part of the new comer Doc sees when said new comer steps from the train is newcomer's feet, for we are opposite the station and look under the train. But Doc has been in the colony longer than most of us and he has had a lot of experience. I have seen him make some most uncanny predictions that came out just as he said. For instance: there was the man Bolley. Bolley came in quite by accident. Was just camping through the country and hadn't even heard of the Colony. Didn't know it was here. Oh, yes, he had heard of it. But it was quite by accident that he happened to drop in close to us. We took Bolley in. He seemed to be honest and a good worker. Had a lot of livestock that he turned in as payment for his membership. Fairly good stock. Then the soul of Bolley was put under the microscope in the colony soul laboratory. At first it was hard to find, but we finally discovered it. Bolley's soul proved to be a queer animal. Whether he came in or just happened in, operated for pay, or was taking a little flyer of his own, we never exactly learned. But one day he slipped out with his livestock and the one thousand shares of stock. He represented himself as a hard-working man. His wife represented herself as an agitator. They are probably both right, at least we have no doubt of the fact that she is an agitator. Then there was Hungtown. He was another agitator. Hungtown came in without putting a dollar into the colony. Came in on his ability before we had the soul laboratory keyed up to catch the difference between ability to do and ability to talk. We were deceived. Hungtown came in as one of the finest tutors who ever tooted. There was nothing in the realm of mathematics that he couldn't solve. His life was a dream, his wife a queen, his services invaluable, himself indispensable. We trembled when we thought of the hazards we had run before we got him. He was a real wonder-worker, a genuine heteacher. He told us all this in the first half hour after the stage dropped him down in our humble and unsuspecting midst. Hungtown had all of the self-effacing humility of a circus band. He would no more get himself in the spotlight than would a movie queen seek to keep squarely in front of the camera lens. He was as modest and retiring as a polecat and eventually became as much endeared to us. But Hungtown couldn't seem to get the hang of things, quite. He failed to tutor as he tooted. He tooted more than he tutored and his dissertations on the sublimity of his married life soon robbed the class of its interest in this subject. When he had purged the school of all its pupils by his drearymonologues on domestic virtues as radiated by himself and his fair spouse, he was put to keeping books. Now if there is one thing that narrows the soul, or that attracts the narrow soul, it seems to be book keeping. We never learned whether it was cause or effect, whether the narrow soul took naturally to double entry, or whether double entry made sandwich souls. In the same office at the same time there was a book keeper of aristocratic bearing and overbearing disposition whose name was Orton. Orton was English and he pruned the aitches out of the alphabet perseveringly, restoring them in unexpected plaoes with the instinct of a trade rat. In an emotional tirade he once referred to the eloquence of another member of the colony, as being "hall 'ot hair," which translated into ordinary un-English means, "all hot air." Into this office with Orton went Hungtown. There was another in the office there with them, an amiable young Swede named Wonthide. This young man was a most likable chap, stood in the esteem of all, and merited this esteem. That is, he did before he became associated with Orton and Hungtown. But afterwards—well, the aitchless Hinglishman and the regular he-teacher were too much for. him. Their contaminating influence became such that the soul microscope began to register sun spots on the immaculate spirit of Wonthide. These celestial freckles grew, till Wonthide became one of the most bitter and implacable enemies that the colony ever had. Yet the colony had done him no harm, and even extended him an invitation to come back after he had left. Once long ago there was an organization formed within the colony of dissenters who took to themselves the name, Welfare League. They met out in the sagebrush and each wore as the insignia of the order, a piece of sagebrush. It became known as the Brush Gang, and the word brush became a part of colony language and remains so today. To "brush" is to become dissatisfied and to make trouble. A "brusher" is one of the dissatisfied. Well, Orton, Hungtown, and Wonthide brushed. Now this man Orton didn't pay his way in full, and he never put a dollar directly in the colony either. Wonthide did. He was clean and straight until the evil influences of the others corrupted him. The three of them worked on the books for months. They were presumed to know of every entry that was made. Of course, the easiest attack to make on the integrity of any concern is to attack its war chest. A run can be made on any bank in the country if only a little industrious whispering be indulged in. Hungtown was a whisperer. He buzzed night and day. He made vainglorious boasts of his prowess as a book keeper, of what he would do, if the irregularities of the accounts, etc. An investigation was ordered by the colonists, instigated largely by Hungtown. Now here is where the soul microscope shows up things that wouldn't otherwise be noticed in a thousand years. Hungtown was a power-seeker. He showed it when he said he wouldn't be president of the company for any salary on earth. But Orton was also a power-seeker. You couldn't get him to be superintendent of" the ranch! Of course not! But if he were, now mind ye, 'e wouldn't be for hanything in the world, but if 'e was, 'e would 'ave done thinks in a much better mawner, and 'is friend Mr. 'Uungtown would bear 'im hout in 'is statement. They both wanted
The Internationalist Page thirteen power, but their interests lay in the same direction, temporarily. When the investigating committee brought in its report, it performed some very clever strategy. Educated by experience, it made the report free from any animus, because to betray animus would prejudice the hearers against those making the report. The report of the committee was clean enough. It noted "some discrepancies in accounts, some apparent slight irregularities which could probably be explained," etc. But the committee was ambitious and bitter, and being ambitious its collective and individual consciences were somewhat dulled. It became unscrupulous in its methods. One of its members, a gaunt, swarthy, sarcastic man, not long in the colony, named Harquelin, got before the assembled colonists, drew a paper from his pocket, and asked the privilege of making some remarks. Herein lay the cunning of the committee. Knowing the flare-back that would come of a report containing biased statements or attacks on the administration, these ambitious power-seekers took this method of making their drum-fire effective. Now this man Harquelin was not fluent and he knew it. But he thought to catch the popular ear. The fineness of psychology escapes even the most acute of us now and then. The grotesque Harquelin, speaking with a slightly foreign accent, uncouth, unprepossessing, Tacking in eloquence, and already suspected of not being altogether ingenuous, opened his speech with "Fellow sufferers!" There's something about the human mind that makes it almost impossible for it to separate the deadly serious from the ridiculous. An Englishman is likely to take a joke with complete seriousness, while an American is quite as likely to get himself badly damaged physically by guffawing at the most serious place of an argument. Llano audiences were always courteous, and they are always ready to listen to a speech. They can take more punishment along that line than any people in the world. So they listened to the harrowing tale of Harquelin. But it was next day that they began to express their real feelings in the matter. Meeting in the road in front of the hotel, two colonists greeted each other simultaneously as "Fellow sufferers." All over the ranch men and women and children were shouting "Fellow sufferer" as a matter of greeting. It was the beginning of the end of the committee. When ridicule begins to creep in, it is time for the committee to begin folding its tents and silently slipping away. But the best of us are blind to pyschology sometimes, and forget the lessons we have learned. Orton and Hungtown whipped Wonthide into line and renewed their attack. Listening posts were established, and we were subjected to all sorts of verbal barrage fire. There were various complications which kept the committee from ever finishing its work on time. For one thing, most of the executives were kept so busy on business trips that they could not all be gotten together to receive the attack. There was one splendid example of this, and it came when the attacking force was rapidly disintegrating. A special meeting of the colonists was called to hear the report all over again. The executives and others had been given notice. The fact that one of them was two thousand miles away at that time made little impression on the committee. Bloated with a sense of their own importance, the worthy individuals composing the committee expected all to whom they issued notices to at once appear before them and make such explanations as they might be able to give. However, the executives had other business and could not run across the continent to please the whim of a little, ambitious mind. The meeting dragged. The colonists came out of curiosity, sat about and talked, and waited. Finally one of the committee suggested that the meeting be called to order. The crowd felt no responsibility in the matter whatsoever. The committee had called the meeting. Therefore, let the committee conduct it. So the colonists sat about and chatted some more. Finally, one of the committeemen took the chair, called the meeting to order and asked that the chairman and secretary of the regular General Assembly take charge of the meeting. But the secretary and chairman were quite loath to do so and found adequate excuses why they should not. Then another colonist was suggested. He refused. Man after man and woman after woman was nominated and all refused to serve. Some subtle psychology hinted to the audience that the meeting was to be a farce. There was also the growing feeling that the committee was more interested in its own personal filibustering exploits than it was in the general good of the colony. Later, after nearly an hour, the colony undertaker consented to take the chair. More time was consumed in selecting a secretary, and at last the doctor was the only one who would accept this office. Then some wag went to the kitchen and got a large soup bone and gravely presented it to the chairman as the official gavel! With an undertaker and a*,doctor to direct the meeting, it could not be taken seriously. A few dispirited motions were put and languidly voted upon without discussion. Then Orton tried to make an appeal to stir interest. In a loud voice he demanded that the absent executives appear, as this was the appointed time. There was a death-like and soul-chilling silence. Hungtown tried to arouse some interest, but was not taken seriously. Finally Orton said that as the executives were afraid to appear, and there seemed little that could be done, that the report of the committee should be accepted. Silence followed that, till some tired colonist, who remembered that he had to work next day, moved an adjournment. The motion was put and voted down, but the entire audience got up and walked out. Technically, a large and disinterested audience is still considering that report there in the hall. At a later datt, the report was taken up in order and disposed of to the entire satisfaction of all but four men—Orton, Hungtown, Harquelin, and Wonthide. There was an aftermath to it all, however. A disgruntled trio went to Los Angeles, formed an association to bankrupt and disrupt or control the colony, and at last reports were still operating, with some fell design spurring them on. Revenge seems to be the motive. Their influence has never been felt in the colony, and they are probably having a splendid time making reports, rearranging the colony to their own designs, and generally re-making and re-working the entire co-operative field. Wonthide wouldn't stay with the group, but the three leaders in the plot for power have stayed together. Two human frailties~that drive people out of the colony are the lust for power and the greed for gold. We've had scores of men come to the colony for the express parpose of taking almost immediate charge and operating it according to their impulsive ideas. Then there have been a large number of those who came for gain. Their idea of co-operation was to secure substantial advantages for themselves. They were unwilling to wait for results. Such persons eliminate themselves in the course of time; the colony never has to take action against them. Plots for power have been more numerous than would be believed by those who forget that a socialist is merely a human animal who has gotten hold of a vision or a piece of a. vision. This vision is, too often, merely a hankering to rule, a greed to seize through collective effort, what he could not take for himself by individual exploitation, and his selfishness is always (Continued on Page 37)
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Volume 6, No. 2, June, 1918

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